


Like I’m Dancing On Air (And Praying I Won’t Fall)

by ThatDarnLakeSiren



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Angst, Canon-Compliant, Diverges from Canon some too, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, My take on the idea, Panic Attacks, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19706959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDarnLakeSiren/pseuds/ThatDarnLakeSiren
Summary: A Warlock who wants nothing to do with his magic, a Ghost who just wants to help her Guardian, a Hunter Vangard caught up in the midst of the chaos and confusion.As the Red Legion plots to take over their world and steal the Light away, A Guardian who’s gotten by without finds himself forced to undertake a single-handed quest to get it back, and save the last bastion of Humanity. Or lose himself trying.





	1. And From the Void We Waltz Through Life

Once upon a time a great being came to Earth and gifted us with many wondrous things. It gifted us with technology beyond any we'd ever seen, some wonders borderline magic. The being also aided us as we found our wings and rose up to find new homes among the stars. It fostered a Golden Age unlike anything the human race had ever seen.

But now... such times are but a far-away dream and distant memory to a race that is fighting against extinction. 

The Collapse tore away all pretty glittering vestiges of grandeur humanity had built up, leaving us near death as a whole, fighting and scrapping on our mother planet, fighting just to see another day.

All because of a mysterious but malevolent force known only as the Darkness. But hope was not lost. The Traveler came to humanity's aid, fending off the Darkness and guarding over The Last Safe City, where it became dormant. But as the Traveler fell into a weary slumber, it sent out thousands of small analogues known as Ghosts.

The Ghosts, hyper-advanced AI's capable of magical feats, scoured the Earth for warriors of ages past, and revived them so that they may fight back against the alien forces of Darkness, and protect humanity.

(Or so the story goes)

And through many long trials, the Guardians were victorious; they defeated the Darkness. 

Other threats still existed in the galaxy, and inhabited their mother planet, but together, the Guardians were ready to take back what was stolen so long ago. 

* * *

He didn’t want to wake up again. He remembered rushing water, an echo of screams, a cold that crept through his limbs and locked up his joints. A burning in his lungs and deep, aching throb in his throat before darkness wrapped around him like a cloak and lulled him into sleepless dreams. 

For an eternity, he dozed, dead but never moving on, dormant. 

But then... _Light_. A silverine glow splashed over him, coaxing him from his centuries-long nap, drawing him from the darkened blanket of the river water. He dropped to his hands and knees on the shore, coughing up some water, dazed. There was a clatter of metal; a knife, mottled with rust, lay on the pebbled shore between his hands.

What had happened? Hadn’t he... died? Was this... the afterlife? He could feel the rust wearing off his metal skin, sprinkling to the ground. He felt like a snake, shedding it’s old, small skin. He felt refreshed, revitalized, and yet... something weighed heavy in his chest...

“There you are.” 

A voice smooth as cream and soft as silk startled him from his musing; he looked up, gazing at... he tilted his head to the side, confused. A small glowing ball, surrounded by pointy, grey triangular petals, something very much like an eye right in the center of it all. The little floating pseudo-flower was the source of the silver glow. It blinked at him, and he got the distinct sense that it was both happy and relieved. 

“Rise, Guardian.” It commanded gently, shifted slightly as he rose. “Can you tell me your name?” 

He blinked at her, tilting his head to the side. “Are you an angel?” He asked softly. 

The little thing paused, caught off guard, the petals shifting a little. “I am a Ghost. I was created by the Traveler—“ 

“A ghost, huh?” He repeated, rising fully to his feet. 

The Ghost seemed put-out to have been interrupted, but it answered, “Yes. I’ve been looking for you for a long long time.” 

“You come to take my soul then, dear angel?” He asked, tone joking, but the tiny blossom startled, hurrying on to say,

“Not—no. I resurrected you, restored your body and brought your soul back into it. I’ve been looking for you a long time... I’m sorry I left you waiting.” The little thing replied earnestly, a bit of guilt and sadness creeping in at the end.

He sighed, drooping like an unwatered plant in a summer heat, and rubbed a hand over his head. “Okay... why did you bring me back to the land of the living?”

He wasn’t sure why, but he thought he’d much rather have been left there, ‘sleeping’, tucked up under blankets of river water. He couldn’t remember why he felt this way, or why he was out here... he couldn’t remember much of anything. 

“I was made by the Traveler in their dying breath. My mission was to seek out my Chosen, someone who was capable of wielding the Light, and make them a Guardian, and then to aid them throughout the rest of their life.” The angel-Ghost replied. 

“Mhm... and what does that all mean, exactly? Who, or what is the Traveler? And what is a Guardian?” He asks, brushing more and more rust off his arms. It no longer clung to him, eating away at the metal of his body, but the fine powder of it was agitating him. He was sorely tempted to take a dip and wash it all off... 

“The Traveler came to Earth several hundred years ago, and gifted humanity with many things. It helped them, your people, to travel among the stars. But when forces, other races, beyond Earth threatened to drive humanity to extinction, the Traveler protected them. And in their last moments, created the Ghosts.

”We were tasked with finding our Chosen, and making them Guardians. As a Guardian, you are capable of wielding the Light the Traveler creates. It is a powerful force, and can be wielded in many different ways. Your role is as a protector of humanity. And mine is to help you, in any way I can.” 

“Mhm. So... you found me worthy? Is that it?” He asks, skeptical. He didn’t feel any stronger, nor was ‘light’ glowing anywhere on him, except maybe his eyes. He didn’t feel particularly brave or cunning or... worthy. He didn’t feel worthy. He was just some nobody. Stabbed and left to drown, no doubt...

“Can you tell me your name, Guardian?” 

“You first.” He replied; he didn’t remember his name, actually... 

The Ghost started, and stared at him uncertainly, silent for a long few moments. “I am a Ghost.” It finally replied, uncertain, “I do not... I do not have a name.” 

“Mm. Everyone should have a name,” he says aloud,—and as he does, he realizes that he wants a name to be known by as well—and places his hand in his chin as he thinks. “I’ll call ya Angel. You alright with that?” 

The Ghost—Angel—perked up, and trilled happily. “Yes! I, I quite like it, actually.” She could barely contain her excitement.

He grinned a little, despite himself, and reached out slowly to her. She stilled slightly in the air, allowing the newly-risen Guardian to cup her in both hands. He brought her up to his chest, cradling her close, a semblance of a hug. 

“Well... suppose we should start looking for the rest of humanity, huh Angel?” He murmurs to her, grabbing the knife that had previously been embedded in his throat, turning his attention on his surroundings. 

Forest, a mixture of evergreens, maple, oak. From what he could see, the ground sloped upwards, opposite of the sun on the horizon (casting the world with pink and gold light). He was in a valley, in all likelihood, and decided to try scaling up the hil in order to get a better grasp on where he was...

...until Angel piped up, “The Last City is, err... in the opposite direction that you are headed, erm... you still haven’t told me your name.” 

“To be honest, I can’t quite remember.” He replies candidly, doing a complete one-eighty and heading in the direction indicated. He was puzzled, but not panicked. “I feel like... it’s right on the tip of my tongue, as the saying goes.”

“O-oh no...” Angel started to fret, worrying over him, but he gently pulled her close before she could completely slip free. 

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m sure it’ll come to me. How about we start looking for civilization, eh?” 

“Actually... I was could use some help... my Guardian.” She answered, nuzzling into his hold. 

“Yeah?” He paused, looking down at her.

”I volunteered to perform a recon mission on nearby Fallen movements, that were lurking too close to the City for the Vanguards comfort.” She explains. “If you could help me with finishing my mission before we return to the City, I would very much appreciate it.” 

He paused, then smiled, nodding to her. “Of course. Lead the way, Angel.”

For close to an hour they traveled, following the river for now. The noise of the water was soothing, offering a sense of peace to the newly risen Guardian. Questions flit through his mind... he tried to push them away for now, for most of them resolved around who he had been before his Angel came along. 

Pushing through the undergrowth, he stumbled abruptly into a clearing, and paused.

There were rocks, more like small boulders, arranged in a half-circle in a clearing. It was tucked into a bend of the river, dipping slightly downward, so he hadn’t realized it was here until now. The newly risen Guardian stilled, looking over the area more carefully. The boulders were set purposefully...

He moved closer, and his eyes caught upon words that had been carved into each of the boulders. A bit crudely, but it was still legible. Quite suddenly, a distant sense of grief and loss washed over him, forgotten memories and faces lying hidden, just out of reach. As though he was standing over a cliff with the ocean below, throwing salty spray in his face, but too far and too sheer was the drop, too far for him to truly see.

Six graves. Seven dead (for two were buried together, never to be pulled apart). Seven people who he had once known. Seven people who had once known him, or whoever he used to be...

Slowly, he moved among the graves, fingers trailing reverently over the tombstones, firmly fixing each name in his mind, like stars set in a constellation. He could feel it, deep down; he had known these people, before he’d passed away. Yet the wane sense of grief settled in his chest felt hollow, an echo of feeling bouncing back to him from the deepest canyons of his mind. 

And, then, he noticed to the eighth, and final grave. He almost walked right by it. It stood apart from the other seven, situated near the rivers edge, covered in moss and surrounded by ferns. He reached out, and scraped the moss away, to find the final name. 

Unlike the others, it wasnt clear, carved with a dull knife and shaking hands. More than that, it echoed through his memory (someone yelling for [blank] to move his arse; a child screaming his name as alien scavengers approached; a woman whispering it to him as she kissed his forehead). 

“Corey-12...” 

“Hm?” Angel replied, hovering by his shoulder. 

He shifted until he was facing her, expression thoughtful yet troubled. “My name. I believe it is Corey.” He looked around, taking in the gravestones. He looked down at the knife, and lifted the blade to the engravings. It lined up perfectly. “And I... I must have known these people. This knife was used to carve in their names, see?” 

His Angel projected some sort of, light, scanning the knife and the gravestones one by one, and dipped her body in a nod, “It would seem you are correct, Corey.” 

“...I don’t remember much though.” He mused, idly running his fingers over his old gravestone. “Is that normal?” 

“I’m afraid so, Corey.” Angel replies, “Guardians aren’t meant to look to the past. They’re meant to safeguard humanity, and so, must look forward, into the future.” 

“Mhm.” His mind was already elsewhere... how had he wound up so far downstream? Why was the knife, presumably his own, lodged in his throat? Had someone attacked and stole it from him, or had he tried to take his own life? He couldn’t say... when he tried to reach for that memory, he found nothing but darkness and soft echoes.

He rose back to his feet, stretched, and sighed. “Maybe one day.” Corey murmurs; maybe one day, he’d remember. He turned to Angel, “C’mon, ain’t no helping the dead. Let’s go finish your mission and find the Last City.” 

* * *

Coming up upon the muttering, working Fallen, Corey fell still. He fell into a crouch, hiking up his ragged cloak and tying it back with quick movements so it would not drag. He crept closer, peering down the ravine the river tumbled through. His noise was covered by the gentle rumbling of the waterfall beside him.

 _“The Fallen... an extraterrestrial race that primarily scavenge technology and rebuild it into their own robots and weaponry.”_ Angel’s voice sounded in his head, and he started, then stilled again, just listening as she continued,

_“They have been more active near the city recently, but we have been unable to figure out why. My task was to scout the area and report back. But with you, perhaps we can stop whatever it is that they are doing.”_

Corey made a soft hum, inching closer to the edge. The Fallen were currently bustling around the river’s edge, pulling parts out and scuttling away into the trees again. The numbers were too overwhelming to take on in single combat, and so he retreated, briefly, moving further up-river. 

“Corey?” Angel asks, materializing at his shoulder. 

“There’s too many to fight without a proper weapon. And if we’re going to observe, my shiny ass is gonna give me away when the sun hits right.” He explains. Coming upon what he’d been looking for, he stooped by the rivers edge and scooped up handfuls of mud, smearing it over his metal and clothes. He blurred his outline further with leaves and moss and bark, and turned to creep back towards the ravine’s edge.

He settled himself among the bushes, peering back over the edge to observe the Fallen’s actions. So far, their focus seemed to be on... something in the river. Some sort of tech that had fallen in? He couldn’t see very well from here, so he couldn’t be sure. 

The rumbling of a distant engine made him look up, and a misshapen ship began to descend among the trees. More Fallen jumped down to the ground below, and even more went scuttling into the trees. Most were empty-handed, he noted, but a few were grasping small scraps of metal and wires.

So far, living up to expectations. However, now he wanted to know where exactly the others were going. He shifted forward a little, scanning the area to find a way down. This action dislodged a stone, that fell and clattered, bouncing off seemingly every bit of cliff or boulder possible all the way down.

While the noise in and of itself didn’t attract attention, the rock bouncing off a Fallen’s head certainly did. The alien looked up in surprise, scanning the cliff, but turned away without raising alarm. 

Corey sighed in relief, and became more cautious with his movements. “Angel,” he asked at length, “Can you understand what they are saying?”

“Not entirely. I have some recorded clips of their speech, and I know what some of the words mean, but I am far from fluent.” She responds. “Why?” 

“I want to know what they’re up too. Right now they’re just pulling crap from the river. So we either learn what they’re saying, or follow where they’re going.” He replies, cocking his head down at them.

Angel made a noise of realization, and began focusing her efforts on recording and deciphering the Fallen’s language. Although, after an hours time, the most she could pick out were orders to take the parts “back to loading/docking site” and “be careful!” And other variations of these. 

It wasn’t clear what they were grabbing parts for, or from, or where they might be taking them. But Corey was growing discontent with just sitting around waiting, and finally shifted away from the ledge, retreating back into the trees. 

_“Corey?”_

He just shook his head, gesturing for her to be quiet as he circled around. Before long he’d found a way down, though he was at risk of being spotted by the Fallen that were trailing through the trees, bearing their scraps.

He made it down without incident, and managed to track them a way through the trees, managing to stay out of sight. He soon came upon a wide, flat meadow overrun with Fallen and their ships, pieces of the sunken ship strewn about, being torn apart and put back together. 

Corey didn’t dare creep straight into the Fallen’s encampment, and focused instead on slowly moving around the perimeter, trying to get a good look at what they were doing.

At a first glance, it looked like all they were doing was dissembling the scraps of that ship. A few drones patrolling the perimeter of the clearing, some built of the same material of the ship, was an easy enough conclusion to draw from. However, Corey wasn’t satisfied with that answer. There had to be more to this...

And his hunch was soon proven correct when they hauled the broken form of an Exo into the meadow. His hackles rose as a clamor arose amongst the Fallen, smaller drones moving out of the way of a larger, more powerful leader. The leader inspected the Exo-corpse, then passed it off to some of the other Fallen, who scurried away with their find, handling it carefully.

“This won’t lead anywhere good.” He muttered under his breath, shifting slightly forward to try and get a glimpse of what they were doing to the deactivated Exo. Too much distance and too many Fallen blocked his view, leaving him to guesswork for now.

Little else changed, aside from the constant stream of Fallen bearing scrap metal and wires, all soaking wet. For several hours, Corey sat tight and observed the camp alongside Angel, noting any changes and recording and decrypting their language.

The hours rolled by, but at the onset of nightfall the third day in, something happened; a sort of hush had overtaken the camp, the usual busy motions of the Fallen made slow by something happening on the far side of the camp.

Without any warning whatsoever, a great pain and pressure descended on Corey’s head, vision going static and voice box wailing with his agony. He heard Angel’s voice cry out as he grasped at his head, whimpering as a high whine rose in pitch in his ears, before popping and fizzling out of existence. 

Pain blossomed in his shoulder and he instinctively rolled away from it, hand drawing his knife from his built and eyes focusing past heavy static at whatever had attacked him. 

His vision still shaky with black and white interference and head spinning but recovering from the sudden, intense migraine, he realized that he’d screamed, and alerted the whole camp of Fallen. 

His metaphorical heart sank into his metaphorical stomach, but Corey squared up for battle regardless, armed with nothing but his knife and his wits in the upcoming fight. 

* * *

_The cosmos danced and drifted before his eyes, stars swimming brightly between patches of pure darkness, out in space. Mysterious, intense power flooded him, pounding through his chest and singing out gaily in his mind. It manifested at his fingertips as a single, concentrated force, and with a roar he flung it at his enemies._

_The Fallen lit up like supernovas before collapsing into black holes and dissolving into nothing._

_He turned his attention on those remaining as the power drained away, but adrenaline —or something very much like it— was still pounding through his body. His voice rose into a crescendo of fury and fear as he fell upon them, his blade digging itself into their throats and chests, his hand ripping their weapons from their hands and turning it on their brethren._

_By the time the sun set, bleeding gold and red across the sky, the clearing was full of busted machinery and alien blood. And standing, shaky and proud at its center, was the Guardian._

* * *

A week in, and he already wanted to leave. While it took all of a month for Angel and Corey to travel (and fight their way) to the Last Safe City, the young Guardian was quickly learning that _leaving_ the Last City wasn’t half so easy. Especially considering that he was still so new; he was considered ‘young’ and required training. 

He didn’t disagree with learning some self-defense before going up against the Fallen again and all the rest of the baddies out there, but the city was... overwhelming. It was crammed full of people, everyone always busy, moving, lights always on at all hours of the day. It stirred a restless feeling in Corey, and made him long desperately for the relative quiet and open space of the forest and wilderness beyond the walls. 

His mentor, the Hunter Vanguard Cayde, was sympathetic but ultimately couldn’t break the rules for the “baby Hunter”. No matter. Corey was willing to try and break the rules all on his own...

A feat he imagined would be a lot easier if Angel wouldn’t stop trying to thwart his efforts. She never reported him outright, but she would fret and nag at him, even as she scanned blueprints of the Tower and the Wall, noting sensors, camera’s, vents and possible weak points.

But before long, things came to a breaking point, a stirring of that Light that had first brought him back. A feeling of unease swept over him, a distinct sense that something was wrong. Before long, soft silver was twisted into something purple-black and hungry, fighting to burst from his fingertips like a black hole. 

“Corey?” Angel asked him, but her voice was distant, even when she spoke through their mental link.

He couldn’t breathe; everything was caving in on him and he was at the center of it all, a black hole in his torso threatening to tear him apart and everything else.

His fingers were numb but his feet were moving, he was sprinting away down the corridors of the Tower. His vision was tunneling, he couldn’t see or feel anything beyond the panic choking it’s way down his throat and the silver-flecked darkness tearing it’s way through his torso.

_Have to get out, have to get out, let me out, let me out, **out** , **OUT**!!_

The words tore through his chest, which heaved for air, air he didn’t need, air he couldn’t find; the cosmos swirled through his head, the Light blinding him with it’s void-like darkness.

_Help me, help me, help me, help me..._


	2. Take My Hand, I’ll Show You the Steps To This New Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sorta jumps all over in the timeline... just a heads up. Also changes in perspective... if I’m not mistaken it’s primarily Cayde’s.
> 
> Also, I put in a subtle crack about Titan’s, at my brothers expense. Lemme know if ya spot it.You have to help

Cayde had nearly missed the kid as he walked past; the fellow Exo had blended in well into his environment, leaving himself practically invisible. But the kids Ghost gave them a way; a Ghost who, until now had been unable to find her Guardian, and instead volunteered on man ya recon mission for the Vanguard.

”Cayde!” She greeted, her shell perked up in happy greeting. 

The Vanguard startled, but smiled at her, lowering his weapon. “Oh, Missie! You’ve returned. You startled me.” He reached a hand out to her, gesturing for her to draw nearer. “We caught movement outside the wall, we aren’t sure what it was, but we don’t know if it’s safe—“

”What? Oh! That was us.” 

“Us?” Cayde repeated. 

“Yes, us. Corey,” she turned to address a nearby bush. Uhhh... okay? Had she knocked a few screws loose or something?

She continued before he could ask who she was talking to, “This is Cayde, the Hunter Vanguard.”

A brief pause. But then, the bush rustled and rose, stepping towards Ghost and Guardian. Two lights blinked into existence, peering down at Cayde, the anthropomorphic bush towering over Cayde. The Vanguard stared, jaw falling open and hand going to his knife on pure instinct. 

The newly rez’ed Guardian was _filthy_ ; their clothes disintegrating into nothing under a thick layer of forest filth. The Exo was completely covered, head to toe, in mud, leaves, twigs, alien bodily fluids, and moss, hiding the color of fabric and metal alike. Through the veil of dirt, leaves and blood, eyes blue and gold peered out, determination and curiosity shining out from their depths.

“Cayde, this is Corey. My Guardian.” The little Ghost finished her introduction, happy, proud, and completely oblivious to the fact this wasn’t a human, Awoken, or even an Exo; her Guardian was fricking _sentient flora_ at this point.

The walking bush said nothing, but the glowing lights tilted slightly, gaze sweeping over the Vanguard. Assessing him, checking him over in case he was a threat. But finally, that hard, analytical expression vanished, replaced with something for friendlier. 

“Hello.” Corey greets, dipping his head in a nod. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but my arms are full.” 

“Uh, right, that’s fine.” Cayde answered, struggling to regain some semblance of composure. (Full of _what_? He couldn’t even see the kids arms!) “I’m Cayde. You already knew that... welcome to the Last City, kiddo.” 

“It’s Corey.” He frowned slightly. 

“You’re a newly rez’ed Guardian, kiddo,” Cayde repeated, tone teasing, “Lotta folks are your senior, and are gonna give ya all sorts of nicknames of the same kind. Better get used to it.” 

Corey huffed, but didn’t make any sort of comment. His gaze turned to the far wall, taking on an apprehensive air. “So this... is the Last Safe City?” His gaze shifted from the wall, to higher, towards the Traveler. He muttered under his breath, “Doesn’t seem terribly safe with that great lug hanging over it.” 

Cayde frowned softly, but shook it off; maybe the kid just hadn’t learned what the Traveler was, exactly. It certainly was a lot to take in when he was newly rez’ed, at least. 

He waved the kid’s concerns off, “Don’t worry, the Traveler there,” he jabbed his thumb at it, “Has been chillin’ there for centuries, and it’s never once showed any signs of falling. In fact, it protects us. Now, com’on!” He gestured for Corey and his Ghost to follow him as he strode away. “Now that we know things were a false alarm, we can get ya inside, debrief on Missie’s mission and get ya cleaned up.” 

“Her name is Angel.” Corey answers, lightly nuzzling his head against Angel’s body as he passed. The little one kept pace with him, hovering at shoulder-height. 

“Ah, my bad then. She never told us her name before—“ 

“Because she didn’t have one before. I gave it to her.” Corey interrupted smoothly, long strides bringing him beside the Hunter Vanguard easily. The Exo-bush tilted his head at Cayde again, protectiveness creeping into his gaze.

”Right. Let’s uh, let’s just get back to the City. She can give her report and you can get cleaned up and all the rest of the,” he waved his hand, already bored with the thought of all the necessary steps, “Tradition, procedures, stuff, or whatever when we get new Guardians.”

”...am I to assume you are the City’s leader?” Corey asked, to which Cayde barked a laugh. 

“Hah! Nah, nothing like that. Guardians are split three ways, kiddo; strong knightly Titan’s who think they’re superior to everyone —which they aren’t by the way, just a heads’ up— Warlocks who can sortof just,” he gestured somewhat indistinctly in the air with both hands, “Do magic and stuff happens, which is kinda cool, and then there’s Hunters. Hunters aren’t bound by rules, not quite like the others.” 

“...because you lead the Hunters?” Corey guessed. 

“Ehh, sorta. More like manage them. The other Vanguards, Ikora and Zavala, are definitely more strict, but Hunters, well, we’ve always been more of the lone wolf, traveling far afield sorts. We like to travel. Good for gathering recon and the like, so there’s not a lot in the City at any one time.” 

Corey mulled this over in silence for a few minutes, absorbing this new information. He looked back to Cayde, “Is it... something you just know you have, when you... first wake up again?” 

“More or less. I can’t think of anyone that started out as one and became another, not off the top of my head. Ikora might know; Warlocks are obsessed with history and keeping proper records and the like, so maybe there is one. But even so, it’s gotta be the rarest thing out there.”

Conversation idled after that as Cayde led Corey into the City, reporting in, briefly, what had happened, before ushering Corey off towards the barracks. He was pretty sure there was an empty apartment around, and he could officially assign it to the kid later. Although, clothes were also something of an issue... kid had zero armor or proper gear, from what he could tell, and everything was so filthy and worn that he’d need a change of clothes anyway...

”Okay, hang on, change of plans.” Cayde changed directions midstride, leading Corey down a different hallway than he had originally planned to go down. “We’re stopping at my place first, so you can get cleaned up. And you can borrow some of my clothes until we get you fitted with... some custom stuff.” 

Corey stuttered in his pace, glancing down at himself and then back at Cayde. “...what, am I taller than the average Exo or somethin’?” 

“Something like that, kid.” Cayde answered, grinning up at the living forest of a Guardian. 

Corey didn’t scowl at him like Cayde thought he would, he just hummed and kept pace. Cayde shrugged the lack of reaction off and they soon arrived at his apartment. He pushed Corey into the bathroom, telling him to just chuck his old clothes into the nearby wastebin, but the young Guardian paused. 

“...what? What’s up?” Cayde asks, realizing that Corey was just standing there in the doorway, looking uncertain. 

“Well... is there anywhere I could put Zephyr?” Corey finally asks. 

“Zephyr?” Cayde repeats, turning on his heel to face Corey.

Corey nodded, and slowly pulled what turned out to be a cloak from over his arms, revealing, tucked up against his chest, a large, furry cat. The cat’s jaws opened wide in a yawn, soulful brown eyes blinking open to peer around its new environment. Whiskers quivering as they took in the new sights and scents and sounds, it began to squirm, wanting to be put down.

”...that is a lion cub. Where did you, why even—?” Cayde asked, nearly laughing as he walked over, earlier goal abandoned. 

Sundance appeared at his shoulder, looking over little Zephyr, saying, “It’s a girl. She can’t be more than a four months old, otherwise she’d still require milk.” Something that would be difficult to find out in the woods, especially when on the move.

The Exo’s surprisingly long, dainty fingers found their way behind the cubs ears, gently scritching her, “Her momma had been attacked by something else. Zephyr was tucked up under her momma’s belly. I didn’t want to leave her, but thankfully she was mostly weaned. I hunted for her as I traveled.” 

His voice is soft, affection and comfort in the gesture as he continued to pet and scratch the cub. There was something more, something sad in Corey’s gaze. Something guilty.

“Well, we don’t have any rules about pets... so long as she doesn’t bite anyone, I don’t think anyone will care.” Cayde shoots a grin at Corey, who smiles back a little. 

“I guess... we could both use a bath...” he admits, retreating quietly into the bathroom. 

Cayde chuckled, and went back to gathering clothes that might fit the lamppost-legged Corey. He liked the kid, what could he say? Corey was smart, if his strange bush-disguise was anything to go by. He had compassion to him, taking in that cub. And he didn’t take things at face value, like some newbie Guardians did; just immediately trusting complete strangers, Guardian status or no. 

Yeah, the kid had the potential to be something great. He just needed a little guidance... well, one step at a time. The Hunter Vanguard was just helping the kiddo out before briefing and sorting out which sort of Guardian he was. There was nothing to say the kid was a Hunter, despite the evidence.

* * *

About an hour later, Angel, Corey and Zephyr were debriefing the former’s mission, going over the successful recon, and stoppage, of some nefarious Fallen device. 

“So let me get this straight,” Cayde asks when they finish, having long-since ceased to actually write any of it down. “So you’re sittin’ there just watching them, because you don’t want to take them in a straight fight.” A nod. “Then they activate something, you draw attention to yourself by mistake, and you manage to fight off the entire camp? Without needing a rez from Angel? Not a single one??”

Corey slowly nodded, glancing at Angel, mouth settling into a thin line. She must have said something over their mental link, because his eyes widened and he looked back to her, startled. He slowly turned back to Cayde, something else weighing on his mind, but he nodded, far more certain. 

“That would be correct.” 

“And you only had a dull knife to fight them off with?” 

“Well,” and here he smiled slightly, “I did take a gun or two off of them, sir, but they didn’t hold up to snuff so I dropped ‘em as I traveled.” 

Cayde sat back, flabbergasted but impressed nevertheless. The results were, doubtless, simultaneously impressive and not pretty. 

In less than a week, this new Guardian had tracked and shut down a Fallen operation, ceasing the production and testing of a possibly deadly weapon to their fellow Exo, Guardian and civilian alike. Corey had gathered all the data he could, alongside Angel, then destroyed it all, erasing everything from their databases, and then proceeded to track down and eliminate any Fallen in the surrounding area who might have known of the devastating device. 

“That’s not all, actually, Cayde.” Angel spoke up, glancing at Corey proudly, “He also used his super. Just once, but it was more than enough.” 

“...you’re kidding?” Cayde managed, gaping at Corey. 

Angel puffed up, somewhat indignantly. “Would I joke about such a thing? I take these debriefings seriously, Cayde. Unlike some people...” her teasing tone lightened her overall statement. 

Cayde leaned forward, jabbing his finger at her, “You’ve become quite the sassy little thing, since gaining a Guardian.” He grinned at her, and she chirped out a laugh. “I like it.” 

Corey huffed, gaze flicking up at Cayde, before going down to Zephyr. The cub was sticking near “dad”, nuzzling at his legs, begging to be picked up. The kiddo avoided eye contact as he scooped her up, hugging her close and scritching behind her ears.

This kid had managed to activate his Super less than a week into being a Guardian, which was both rare and impressive. All around, the kid was clearly set on a path to greatness, he just needed a little bit of training and direction to help him reach that greatness, rather than coasting along on raw power and street smarts alone.

And as it later turned out, kiddo was a Hunter! Not too much surprise there, in all honesty; kid had staked out his target for three days straight and was a master of blending into his environment already. Not the most, orthodox method, but it clearly worked.

However, Cayde soon realized, that Corey wasn’t all that he appeared at first glance. 

Despite being eager to train and pick up some new skills, Corey simply, wouldn’t, show up whenever Cayde mentioned working on his ‘super powers’, or light form (as it was more commonly known). And despite his height and distinctive appearance, he was easy to lose in a crowd, and often could waltz right by people without them ever noticing he was there.

Which meant that Cayde could never track the kids movements or location easily, whether by trailing after him himself, or asking others if they’d seen him. Frustrating, to say the least.

On top of the kid avoiding his training sessions altogether —as Cayde had taken to mentioning one thing but bringing up their Super’s instead when the kid showed up— he was getting into fights. Which was honestly just baffling. The kid loved socializing; he had a certain way with people, charming and friendly yet open and honest, and people were often drawn to him.

And yet, not even four days into his time at the Tower and he’d gotten himself into five individual fights with other Guardians, most verbal that turned physical real fast.

It didn’t help that a lot of those fights were with Warlocks or Titans, as Cayde had Zavala and Ikora getting on his ass about disciplining his wayward Hunter. 

So, he pulled the Hunter aside during dinner—an unplanned run-in that involved a lot less fuss than he had initially believed it was going to be—, leading Corey back to his office. 

“What’s going on?” Corey asks, hand going to his knife. It was an old, dull blade, mottled with rust, the grip falling apart. Kid had refused to get a new one for some reason. Another strange thing to add to the tally, as Corey already showed preference towards keeping his gear clean and in working condition.

“I’ve been gettin’ reports from the other Vanguards that you’ve been starting fights with their Warlocks and Titan’s. You’ve even been fighting with your fellow Hunter’s. Now I’m not here to get you in trouble, I just want to know what’s going on.” Cayde explains. 

Corey was silent for a long moment, and Angel materialized, nuzzling into the crook of the Exo’s head and shoulder. His hand cupped around her, lightly caressing her sides as he thought over his answer.

Finally, with reluctance, Corey met Cayde’s gaze and answered, “I’ve been getting into fights over the Traveler, sir.” 

“What... do you mean by that?” Cayde asked slowly, looking over the kid. 

Corey sucked in a breath and braced himself, shifting until his Ghost was shielded from the Hunter Vanguard. “I would ask the other Guardians what they thought of the Traveler, and its motivations, and they didn’t like it when I probed deeper or questioned their reasonings.

”They called it blasphemy, heresy, called me... less than kind names. When I refused to submit to their way of thinking, they assaulted me.” 

Cayde nodded slowly; it seemed the reports were inaccurate, then. Most of them had claimed that Corey had been the one to strike first. And then, the Vanguard felt a pang as he looked over his Hunter. The kid was eyeing him warily, body shifted to flee at the first sign of attack. He shouldn’t be so afraid of his mentor and leader. Because it was there, gleaming in his eyes; fear. Honest to god fear.

”Relax, kiddo. You’re not in any sort of trouble. Those other Guardians were out of line for attacking you over your opinion.” Cayde tries to calm Corey, keeping himself relaxed as well.

It worked, as Corey slowly relaxed as well. But something still troubled him. “Is it... common? To think of the Traveler as... being without fault?” He phrased his worlds carefully.

“Uhh, I suppose so? I mean, there’s some real assholes out there who became Guardians, so I dunno why the Traveler decided they were worthy, but eh.” Cayde shrugged, smiling when his words got a snicker from the Hunter.

He continues, "We should probably work on some stuff, though. From the reports, you held them off well enough on your own, but didn't use your powers. If you wanna stand a chance against whatever the universe decides to throw at us, ya need to learn how to use them properly."

Corey's smile fell away, posture stiffening. He slowly straightened to his full height, chin jutting out defiantly. His cloak billowed around him from his movements. "Is that a requirement?"

Cayde gaped at Corey, stunned to silence. The newly rez'ed Guardian just gazed back steadily at the senior Hunter, eyes taking in a hardened edge as he turned and swept away, storming gracefully from the room. The silence had been answer enough for them. 

But the truth of the matter was, learning how to use a Light Form, or Super as it was often called (especially by newbie Guardians), was something most were chomping at the bit to learn. It took time, and effort, to master a Light Form, and tap into the power of the Light. Whether to shape the world around oneself, using elements of the universe, or to create tools and shields, among other things.

Corey’s attitude towards the Light was simply unprecedented; he avoided every aspect of the gift he had been given, refusing to use it or learn how to use it. And Cayde simply, honestly didn’t know what to do with his Hunter mentee. Using the Light was... possible, without learning a Light Form, true; the first Guardians had done so, afterall. 

However, using them viably, and without blowing oneself and others up, was something that had been developed over time, by those same original Guardians. 

By the time Cayde had come to all of these realizations, and darted out the door looking for Corey, the kid was long-gone. And no amount of searching that evening turned anything up.

This was very, very bad.

* * *

_It pulsed and swirled around him._

_By day he dreamed of galaxies, dark blue and black canvasses speckled with silver and gold. The darkness lit up with supernovas as stars sent their particles out, seeding new sun's and worlds. Then, crushing gravity dragged it all down, swallowing light and life._

_By night he remembered fragments of old life. Fair skin dotted by constellations of freckles— marred blue and black— smeared with sticky crimson. Angry eyes and screaming, rusted blade meeting delicate electronic eye; pain, static and unfamiliar, but he hadn't hesitated to strike back with lethal force. Rushing water that dulled the pain in his throat and chest, pulling him asleep._

_(Silver light, forcing him awake)._

_The Traveler hung by some intangible means, defying gravity, a miniature moon, above the City. It scared him; he feared it succumbing to the Earths unrelenting grasp and crashing into the City, killing them all. He resisted its Light, and the powers it offered (the power to destroy effortlessly, to so easily end a life, terrified him still, haunting his mind)._

_He cut down and shot through his enemies, evading and hiding away or talking his way through anything he couldn't kill. He got by without the Light, refusing to become accustomed to it, let alone reliant upon it._

_But nobody can bottle up so much power for so long. ( **Nobody** )_

* * *

It wasn’t all too uncommon at all for Hunter’s to sign up for or request missions that kept them out in the field for months at a time. Hunters preferred the wide open wilderness to the cramped City, and were excellent in regards to recon, making them invaluable in their field.

Nor was it unusual for Hunters, especially newly risen Hunters, to be antsy their first few months in the Last City. All of them had traveled a long time in open wilderness to reach it, and were none too thrilled at being cooped up. Even those in desperate need of training often fought against the rules, either begging to be let out or attempting to sneak out themselves.

And while it was rare, it wasn’t unheard of for Hunters to grow claustrophobic and fall to panic, even in a space such as the Vanguard Hall or a ship. Of these instances, most would scurry on up to the roof to gain some breathing space, or flee into the City itself and sequester themselves in a public park away from the civilians until they’d calmed down. 

Most, that is.

In all his years as a Guardian, and later the Hunter Vanguard, Cayde had never witnessed something quite like this. To be frank, he didn’t know what he should do, or whether he needed to call for backup.

Curled into a ball in a corner of some hallway in the Tower, was Corey. The kid was quite literally glowing, the colors shifting kaleidoscope-style from purple-black, to orange-red, then blue-white and back again. His arms wrapped tight around himself, fingers digging in tight enough to slightly dent his armor, body wracked with tremors as he sobbed.

As the Vanguard slowly approached, the kid seemed completely unaware of his presence. Cayde looked around quickly; no one else was nearby, no other Guardians, and no civilians. No potential backup or casualties waiting to happen, aside from himself. He wasn’t sure whether that was entirely good, however...

”Cayde!” Angel suddenly materialized, hovering near his face. “You h-have to help!” She looked frantically from him to her Guardian, twitching and fretting.

“I don’t know—!” Cayde began to reply, glancing from her to Corey. He cut himself off. “—I’ll try.” He promised.

Cautiously, he moved towards Corey, getting a firm grasp on the kids shoulder when he was close enough; it didn’t immediately burn his hand off (thank Traveler for that), but he could practically feel the Light radiating off the kid... it shouldn’t have been as big of a surprise as it was turning out to be.

Corey flinched and jerked away, limbs slamming into the walls behind him, the trembling in his body intensifying. With the contact came a brief, startling moment of clarity, but then it was lost. The kid curled back in on himself, beginning to wheeze.

The kid was overcharged with energy, locked up inside with him refusing to let it go. Cayde couldn’t tell if that was the cause of the shaking and apparent panic in the kids face or not. 

“Angel,” he asked, not raising his gaze from Corey, “What happened?” He was doing his best to stay calm, but he was really getting worried now.

”He seemed fine, but then he-he—there was a lot of panic coming over our link. He just... started running. I-I caught other little things from him, a-about the walls closing in. He collapsed here, and, and-and that’s when I realized he had activated his powers.” She managed, stuttering through her explanation.

“Sounds like an anxiety attack.” Sundance, his Ghost, replied, materializing at Cayde’s shoulder. “Or possibly a panic attack. Never seen someone activate their super over it though... Angel, do you have any idea what the trigger was? If there was one?” 

Cayde nodded, attention turning back to Corey as the Ghosts conferred with another. If Corey was anything like the other Hunters in terms of these sorts of things, then getting him outside could be crucial to helping him calm down that much faster.

“C’mon kid, up,” he coaxed, hooking his hands under the kids arms and hauling him to his feet. Corey started, eyes flying open again, and wheezed out something that might have been words. “C’mon, kid, work with me here, one foot after the other—“ 

Between the shaking and the kid being a damn tree, it was slow going, especially since Cayde wanted to avoid any crowds that might stress Corey out even more. But soon enough, he’d kicked open the access door to the roof, and they were out under open sky.

At that point Corey put full efforts into pulling away from Cayde, succeeding... only to wind up collapsing. 

“Kid!” Cayde crouched next to him, but Corey had already rolled himself onto his back, hands clutching his chest as he stared up at the sky, struggling to breathe. “J-just calm down... you’re safe...” 

Corey glanced at him, fully registering his presence, then looked back at the sky, a little of the panic beginning to ebb away.

Angel nuzzled against Corey, murmuring soothingly to her Guardian, and Cayde settled himself at the kid’s side, breathing out a sigh. The kid was still caught in... whatever type of attack it was, but he was at least in his own headspace now and beginning to calm down.

Cayde sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand against the side of his head. He was gonna have to insist on those lessons about powers, now, wasn’t he? He didn’t really like to ‘throw his weight around’ as a Vanguard, but if he had to pull rank with this kid, he would. 

Learning a Light Form was a lot of work, sure, but that was hardly a deterrent to new Hunters. For many it was a motivation, since they wanted to get out there and scout, or fight off their alien enemies, and hated being cooped up in the Tower after the freedom they’d had after being newly Rez’ed. 

Besides that, learning a Light Form had an element of fun to it, as well. Knowing you had these special abilities and actually _using_ them were two very different things. Seeing a baby Hunter light up with wonder and glee as they got their powers working was a real delight for Cayde, and he took a great deal of joy teaching new Hunters so he could watch them blossom and grow into capable warriors. 

Corey, on the other hand... he avoided these lessons like the plague, avoided any use of his Light like the plague... he was a Guardian that spoke out against the Traveler, distrusted their savior and protector, the gift-giver of their powers. He was rejecting this gift he had been given, and Cayde didn’t know what to do about it.

But if the kid hated the Traveler and the Light so much, why didn’t he leave? He was more than capable of hiding in plain sight, it should be easy for the kid to just leave and never look back. However, it didn’t seem like hate, so much as wariness. The kid didn’t despise the Traveler, or those who stood at the big guy’s side.

How could he tell? Well, half the time Cayde found the kid, he was engrossed in conversation, speaking with other Guardians, mostly seniors, about this that and everything. From the missions they had been on in the past, the enemies faced, strategies used, to the general history of the Last Safe City, and on and on. 

Corey loved to interact with others, to hear their stories, to learn from their mistakes and victories. He spoke so earnestly, bright-eyed and happy, and listened attentively in turn. If he truly hated the Traveler and anyone with alternate beliefs, his actions would be very different, Cayde felt. 

On top of all that, there was Angel. At just a glance, anyone could tell that Corey cared deeply for her. He would hold her close to his chest, let her nest in his hood as he walked about, in general doted on her. With al the curiosity the kid had, he doubtless new that the Ghosts were creations of the Traveler, and if he truly despised the Traveler, he would have rejected or destroyed Angel long ago. 

So, why did Corey reject the Light so vehemently? Well, if Cayde were to hazard a guess, it was because the kid was afraid. Whatever he had done to that group of Fallen the first time he activated his powers scared him, possibly even traumatized him. Leaving him unwilling to use his powers and risk doing something he’d later regret. 

However, rejecting the Light clearly had consequences... whether the panic had lead to Corey activating his powers or vice verse, Cayde hoped he could talk the kid into learning how to control it. Because right now, the kid was suffering the ill effects of bottling up his powers.

* * *

Slowly, with nothing but open sky and quiet, Corey found calm. He didn’t remember how he got out here, under open sky, the gentle breeze caressing his face, but he could finally breathe. They were far enough away from the City streets and noise and crowds that it was finally calm, and quiet.

As the panic fully ebbed, the Light didn’t spontaneously fade away or dissipate. He was instead left with the intense, chaotic swirl of energy, begging to be released. Threatening to burst out of him, and cause complete and utter destruction. He frowned, shut his eyes, breathed in sharply, and slammed his hand against the metal roof. 

“ _Damn it._ ” 

“Whoa, kid, you alright?” 

Corey started, and tilted his head to the side, and was surprised to find Cayde. He grit his teeth and looked away; their last encounter had been far from friendly, and Corey wasn’t sure how to interact with his mentor. He had rejected being taught, afterall, and he’d made sure to be thoroughly invisible and untraceable since then.

He had planned on leaving. On getting outside the walls of the Last City with Angel and Zephyr, and never looking back. The Earth was vast and wide, he had been so certain that he could find some pocket of it to disappear in, that they would never find him, and he could live out the rest of his days in peace...

No powers to worry about, no damn Traveler-moon threatening to crush them... but that was before he’d learned about the Resurrections, or Rez’s as they were more commonly referred too. With the Light, Guardians could live for hundreds of years. And with their Ghost preforming Rez’s on them when something killed them, they were virtually immortal. 

Hence why, the best way to keep a Guardian dead, was to destroy their Ghost. A thought that Corey simply couldn’t bear, a course of action he refused to consider. He wanted to protect Angel, and he didn’t ever plan on hurting her. So what if his natural life span was going to stretch into infinity? With her by his side, he was certain he could take it...

“Kid.... Corey. Could ya look at me?” Cayde asked. Corey obliged, uncertain what to expect, but sympathy had been far from his expectations. “I’m not mad, alright? And you’re not in trouble. I just want to help you.” 

Corey remained silent, just staring at the Vanguard. In his silence, Cayde continued, “I don’t know why you despise the Light so much, but even if you hate it so much, you need to learn how to control it—“ 

“I don’t hate it. I fear it.” Corey forced himself upright, folding his legs beneath himself. His body bowed low over his legs, hands grasping the fabric of his pants. He was glowing with a miasma of colors, the Light presenting itself with a myriad of different energies, different powers, any of which could be unleashed at any moment. 

“...why, kid?” Cayde asked gently, placing a hand on Corey’s shoulder.

He flinched, but Cayde didn’t remove his hand, nor did he seem hurt by the contact, so Corey didn’t pull away or try to shake him off. After a moment, he found the words he needed, 

“The Fallen. I-I took out a large number of them with just one swing of my arm. I... that kind of power... able to kill in an instant... I don’t want to hurt anyone.” he managed. “I don’t want to be a murderer...” 

“Oh, kid... no one’s going to miss a couple of Fallen—“ 

“It’s not that.” Corey interrupts, jerking himself from Cayde’s touch, forcing himself to his feet. The Light churned inside, nauseatingly bright, burning, freezing, sparking with power. “Taking out the Fallen, and anything else that poses a threat to myself, or the people of the City... that’s not it. It’s...” 

How could he describe it? 

“It’s the potential of it... what if I lose control? What if I hurt or kill someone who I’m meant to be protecting?” His stomach felt sick with the thought. One of his eyes twinged with the memory of pain, and he winced, rubbing it briefly. “I... I couldn’t bear it...” 

“Kid...” Cayde began. Stopped. Began again, moving to stand in front of Corey, “I get it. You just don’t want to hurt anyone. But that is why we have Light Forms, and train our people to learn how to use them. So we can maintain control, and avoid hurting anyone.”

Corey nodded, looking over himself; he was aglow with color, the Light thrashing and whirling inside his chest. 

“...this mean you’re gonna stop avoiding the training sessions?” Cayde pressed, and Corey nodded again, glancing out at the horizon. 

“... Cayde... what do I do?” He asked quietly. “It wants to be used... and I don’t know how...” 

The Hunter Vanguard paused. Thought about it, then laid a comforting hand on Corey’s shoulder, “Guess it’s time for an impromptu lesson. Let’s get to it, yeah?” 

Corey felt himself smiling, a little, relief filling him. “Alright.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno how to feel about this ending but *shrugs* hope y’all enjoyed! Comments are inspirational overdrive fuel and kudos are love. :3 <3


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